A smart person would let their loved ones know that they all were in danger. I am no exception to that logic and did what any person with common sense would do. If you are familiar with how most horror shows or movies go, the people who are being warned will not listen and resume their normal activities.

Arnold and Annie did not believe a word of my story. My true story. Arnold thought that I was trying to play a prank on them, and Annie was on the floor and laughing her head off. I knew that there was nothing to be embarrassed about, for what I saw in the window was absolutely real, but I was hurt that neither of them took me seriously.

I placed my hands on my hips and tapped my foot as I frowned at my little sister. "It is not funny," I commented. "If it were, I would be laughing too."

Annie's annoying laughs died down, and she sat up and said, "You are right, Ann. It is not funny." She giggled. "It is hilarious!"

Annie was a few years younger than me. She wore a pink, long-sleeved shirt with jeans and white shoes. Her blonde hair was long and straight, and she had a pink bow in it. I was the opposite. I had golden shoes and a golden tiara and wore a pink, short-sleeved dress that touched my knees and long, white socks that also reached to my knees. My blonde hair was long and curly. You would probably never imagine how long it takes me to make each strand curly.

"Ann," Arnold said my name. "Show us where you saw the silhouette."

I led them back outside and pointed to the window. The silhouette was not there now. Turns out, that is one of the attic windows.

Arnold rested a hand on my shoulder. "Are you sure that is where it was?"

"As sure as the property that we are standing on," I replied. "It was looking at me and waved."

"I think that she wants us to go in the attic and prank us, Arnold," Annie said.

I narrowed my eyebrows at her. "For the last time, Annie, I am not pranking you and Arnold. Besides, why the crub would I want to prank you in the attic?" I shivered and hugged myself. "You know how I feel about attics and basements." I shivered again.

"Well, maybe you should stop watching those scary videos on the Internet."

"I have to watch and listen to them in order to kick writer's block in the corner."

"'Writer's block'?" Arnold repeated. "Are you a writer, Ann?"

I nodded. "I write books about mystery and horror."

"I love to hear news like that. I just love reading horror and mystery novels. I read them whenever I am not tending to the garden." He was silent for a moment or two before he snapped his fingers and said, "I have something that your grandma used every night before bed. There is also a room in this mansion where you can get some inspiration."

I was so intrigued by his offer that I thought that my eyes sparkled. "Was Grandma a writer just like me?"

"Oh, yes. Writing was not her main career, but I have read some of it, and it is super good."

"How many books did she write?"

He sighed out of sadness. "She managed to finish just one. She just started the first page of her second novel before her passing."

Annie's face saddened, and so did mine.

Arnold told us to be happy instead because that is what our deceased family would want. He then ordered us to stay put while he was gone and took us back inside. We watched as he hurried down one of the halls and disappeared around a corner.

We stood across from a door that had a musical note hanging on it. Annie scurried up to the door, and I followed her.

"What do you think that you are doing?" I said. "You heard Arnold. He said to stay where we are."

"Relax," she responded. "I will not be far. I just desire to check this room. I believe that it is the music room."

"He did not say to stay put in the music room."

"He will find me with ease, Ann. Someone will be making music, and that will be me."

Annie opened the door a crack and peered in. It was pitch black, so she opened the door all the way and flipped on the lights. Or should I say, light. A single lightbulb hanging from the ceiling lit up the room, and Annie squealed and ran in.

The room was big enough to fit in different kinds of musical instruments. There were trumpets, trombones, drums, and much more. The floor was orange, and the walls were made from wood and painted a chocolate brown.

I slowly walked in and was amazed by the instruments. I love music, but not as much as my sister. Her dream was to be a professional at playing every instrument that is known to man. She knows how to play the flute extremely well and was wanting to master the piano next. Speaking of the piano...

Annie had her hands on the piano. She was sitting on the bench and pressing the keys.

"You are going to have to perform one of the world's hardest music pieces perfectly before you master the piano," I joked.

As soon as I said that, Annie started playing a piece that not even an advanced musician could pull off. She was a beginner. I gave her a warm smile and congratulated her.

"Ann," Annie said. "That is not me."

I examined the situation closely and realized that she was correct. The piano was playing by itself.

"M-maybe you pressed a button for the piano to be automatic."

"Ann...there is not a button like that."